The only open route to Northern Europe which members of belligerent nations could safely take was through Bergen in Norway. The Wilson Line from Hull to Christiania continued to run one weekly boat regularly, which carried mails, general cargo, and an occasional passenger. It was considered advisable by most people to avoid taking this boat.
From Newcastle a Norwegian Company ran a line of small steamers daily, which had not been molested by submarines or warships. They were mail-boats, and although their accommodation and fittings were far from up-to-date, and travellers had to look after themselves much more than they should have been called upon to do, they appeared to be crowded each trip. The neutral flag and the shortest direct passage was responsible for this.
There were many other available ways of crossing the North Sea open to me, and no restrictions as to route had been laid down. I had simply to visit a certain hotel in a certain town, in a certain country, at a certain hour, on a certain date—arranged well ahead. The margin of time allowed was ample for a crossing by sail if desired.
With a passport, a revolver, a bundle of English banknotes (of my own providing), and as little luggage as possible, I made my way towards Scotland to take ship for Norway and the beyond.
There were three vessels which sailed from the port of embarkation I selected, two Norwegians and a Swede. One of the former was fortunately taken. It was certainly fortunate, because the latter was blown up and sunk by a mine within a few hours of her departure. Such is the luck of war.
The voyage across the North Sea was uneventful. It was rough, as it generally is. The passengers were few. They were almost entirely Russian Poles; I was the only Englishman on board, and there was one Japanese. All were ill with sea-sickness, which was perhaps accentuated by a deadly fear of mines and torpedoes. Few slept, less ate, and as they were charged for the meals they did not consume the owners must have made money, more particularly so when it is remembered that fifty per cent. extra was charged in addition to the ordinary fares, to cover war risks.
The sea seemed to be utterly devoid of life. Not a sail, not a column of smoke, nor even a bird was sighted until the ship emerged from a fog-bank, wherein she had rolled for many hours broadside on, within a few miles of the outer island-barrier of the Norwegian coast.
To the ultimate intense relief of everybody the fog lifted, and a few hours afterwards a small fishing-town on the south-west of Norway was reached. Cargo was discharged, more cargo was taken on board, and again the chains rattled in the hawser pipes; the engines throbbed and the siren aroused echoes from the rocks around as the voyage was renewed northwards.
Later in the day other towns were reached, and similar scenes repeated, until near midnight the lights of the historic port of Bergen danced in the distance.
Securing the services of a friendly native, one of the numerous hangers-on who flit round the quays of seaport towns in every land in the hope of picking up money with the least possible exertion expended to earn it, I made my way to a quiet hostelry in the quietest part of the pleasant old town and installed myself as comfortably as circumstances permitted.